Saintly
by PervyMonk
Summary: She is a saint, and he is anything but. He still longs to be loved by her. Vulpes/F!Courier, slight Boone/F!Courier. Written for the Fallout Kink Meme.
1. Loveable

Vulpes is not a loveable man.

He is charming, to be sure. Handsome. Desirable, even. But not good. Not loveable. He knows this, and he has never cared before.

He wants to be loved by her.

She is his antithesis. His negative. She is everything he isn't. Beautiful. A good person. Saintly.

Loveable.

The first time he meets her is in Nipton. She is covered in Mojave dust, and her shoulders sag from exhaustion. She surveys the scene around her with sorrowful eyes. He proudly proclaims the lottery, and all he has done for the Legion. She isn't impressed.

The second time is on the Strip, and he watches her for far longer than he should. She leaves through the elevator to the Presidential Suite, and Vulpes chuckles softly to himself. Still trying to be diplomatic, simply because it worked for her once in Boulder City. He sees the four thugs take the elevator after her, but he doesn't worry. If they kill her, then she isn't worth his time. A few minutes later, Benny runs past him pale as a corpse. She follows behind a few minutes after that, and Vulpes grabs her arm.

"I know where he's going, my dear," he murmurs in her ear. She turns to look at him.

"It's you," she says warily.

"It's me."

The third time is at Caesar's Fort, and she stands proudly among the Legion. She is but a mere woman who doesn't know her place. But it thrills Vulpes to see her so unafraid. She challenges Caesar with a wit that would have delighted the aging ruler had it come from a man. She barely looks at him, and oddly, he feels the loss of her gaze.


	2. Let it Pour

The first time he makes love to her, it is by chance. He catches her in Zion, and rationalizes leaving the Mojave just to follow her. His body presses hers against the red rocks of the canyon, and her eyes flash. He kisses her, an odd gesture for him, and is surprised when she kisses him back. She moans softly, and his hands fumble with the catch on her pants.

"This is awful," she says against his mouth. "I should shoot you." He chuckles, and teasingly slides his hands over her stomach.

"Afraid you'll become tainted?" he whispers, hands slowly inching the fabric of her shirt up. "Hmmm? Afraid I'll turn this saintly body of yours into something repulsive? Or, do you want me to?" He presses tortuous kissing down her body, pulling her pants from her legs and his eyes locked on hers. Her chest rises up and down quickly, and her eyes turn an indecipherable shade of green. He kisses the small of her knee, and feels oddly out of place in his gentleness. She pulls him up, and kisses him again.

Tentatively, her hands find their way under his armor, and he groans into her kiss in reply. His hand snakes down her leg to pull it firmly against his waist. She cries out softly when he enters her, and her voice is a melody to his ears. He takes her against the wall of the canyon, rain pouring down their intertwined bodies. He keeps the memory of her with him all the way back to the Mojave.


	3. Neither Name nor Understand

Things begin innocently, if such a thing still exists. He begins to find excuses to watch her, to spend time with her. He'll catch her when she is away from the other companions she's managed to find during her travels. She welcomes his presence, and sometimes he finds all he wants to do is sit near her and enjoy her company by the campfire.

It frightens him.

On one such occasion, he's sitting across from her and watching her through the dancing flames of the fire. Her face is obscured by some Old World book. He inches over to get a closer look at her, and she is so absorbed in her book that she doesn't even notice. Her short chestnut hair curls against the fingers resting on her cheek. Her green eyes shine a little brighter with each word she words. His gaze travels from her face to her neck and chest, and his eyes linger on her chest as it rises and falls with her breathing. Her eyes lift up to see him looking at her with a predatory gaze.

"Hey," she says, amused. "Eyes up here, big fella."

"And why I should listen to you? Your chest is appealing to look at," he says. She laughs and gently slaps his forearm. He grabs her wrist and presses a kiss to her palm. Her hand strokes his cheek, and her touch is so light he can barely feel it. Her eyes lock on his and an emotion he can neither name nor understand wells up in his chest.

He leaves that night, without catching her attention, and doesn't go back to her for months.


	4. Valued

When she begins helping NCR, he feels betrayed. He watches as she runs errands for the Bear as the sniper follows behind her like a lost puppy. He's angry, and he catches her when the duo stop at the Ultra Luxe. She's in one of the suites without that man shadowing her, and he follows her inside.

"Haven't seen you in a while," she says without turning, and he pushes the door shut behind him.

"Not surprising. I don't fraternize with profligates," he says heatedly.

"You've been spending time with me until recently. I'm a profligate, and a woman besides," she says. He grabs her, turning her around to face him.

"Why are you helping them?" he demands, slightly shaking her. His jaw clenches at her confused look, and her calm voice.

"Why wouldn't I help them? Do you actually think I would help the Legion?" she asks incredulously.

"You could be a queen," he says, almost pleading. "You could be my wife."

"At what expense? The lives of thousands shackled to Caesar?" she shakes her head. "I won't. I refuse."

He pulls her to the bed, and she reluctantly follows. He slowly peels off their clothes, and feels that time is slipping away from them with each caress. He takes her roughly, his hands clenching on her hips until he's sure she'll bruise. He makes his name fall from her lips with each thrust. He holds her close to his chest afterwards, and thinks of how to delay the inevitable.

"We could leave," he said, and he knows that he would be hung to the cross for his desertion before they ever made it out of the Mojave. She gives him a wary look. "Leave all of this behind."

"Are you saying you value me more than Caesar?" she asks doubtfully.

"Yes," he says, and she isn't sure how to respond, so she doesn't.


	5. Looking Lonely

He simply follows her after that, and doesn't allow himself to become too close. But he watches her, and she fills his every waking thought. Sometimes, when she's sitting by the campfire, her eyes will become unfocused, and her head will tilt up as if she is looking for him.

Waiting for him.

Her companions begin to question her. They ask if anything is wrong, and if they can do anything to help. She simply smiles and says nothing. Vulpes doesn't know why she doesn't tell them the truth, but he is glad she chooses not to.

The sniper is the last to confront her with a stony expression. Vulpes inches closer to hear their conversation, and all of his rationalizing about watching her for the good of Caesar is gone.

"You okay?" the sniper asks gruffly, unsure of how to proceed. She looks up from the campfire she'd been cooking at.

"Yeah?" she says, smiling in a strange way that makes Vulpes' vision turn red. "You?" The sniper shifts from foot to foot.

"You don't look like you're okay," he says finally. She pats the dirt beside her, and he sits down, a mess of awkward limbs plopping down onto the dirt.

"So, what's up?" she says, flipping the gecko steak she's cooking over in the skillet.

"Who are you waiting for?" the sniper blurts out, and Vulpes and the Courier gasp, with simultaneous breaths frozen in their chest. There is a pause that takes a fraction of a second too long, and she asks slowly,

"What makes you think I'm waiting for someone?"

"You look around a lot. Drift off when you're talking," he says. "Look sad a lot." She laughs quietly, but it sounds hollow to Vulpes.

"Sad? How so?"

"You look like I do most days," the sniper says. "Like you're missing someone." His words make her pause.

"It's, well. Hell," she says, resting her head on his shoulder, and Vulpes thinks to himself _Not the NCR dog. Find solace in anyone but him. The ghoul, the drunkard, the profligate scribe. Not him. _"It's complicated."

"I'm willing to listen. Least I could do," the sniper says, the gruffness easing out of his voice little by little as he wraps an arm around her shoulder.

The words they speak are drowned out by the dull roar of Vulpes' heartbeat that deafens him. She leans up against the sniper like she does the scribe or the doctor, staring at the ground and talking about anything that comes to mind. The sniper holds onto her a little too tightly, and his face is buried in her hair for a little too long. When he covertly presses a kiss to her temple after something she says, Vulpes turns away. He leaves them as quickly as he can run, and doesn't care that the dry grass and dead twigs snapping underneath his feet give away his position.

He is surprised to find a pain in his chest he has never felt before, coupled with a misery he never thought he'd feel.


	6. Weak and Foolish

She comes looking for him at Cottonwood Cove, disguised as a Legionary. He catches her haggling with the Canyon Runner for three newly captured slaves. He follows her in silence as she takes them far enough to set them free. After the slaves have fled, he grabs her.

"What in the name of Orcus are you doing here?" he demands.

"I," she stutters, taken aback by his fierceness. "I came to see you."

"If you're discovered, you'll be killed," he snaps, and begins dragging her away from the camp. He ignores her protests, and the soft cries of _Vulpes, you're hurting me! _Good. Let his grasp hurt.

It's a better pain than being strung up on the cross, and he tells her so.

Words seem to desert her, and she remains silent the rest of the way. He doesn't stop to rest until he's dragged her past Camp Searchlight, and the sun is setting in the west like a swollen red sore. He deposits her roughly on the ground, and kneels over her.

Her eyes are wide, and they shimmer with fear for the first time since this whole affair began. Had she'd been anyone else, her fear would have satisfied him. As angry and betrayed he felt because of her, his arms reached out for her anyway. He pulls her to his chest, and she tenses like a scared rabbit.

"You are a weak, foolish woman," he murmurs against her hair. "And I am a weak, foolish man."


	7. Catching a Gaze

He goes to Camp McCarran wearing the garb of a profligate soldier. He hates the thick, scratchy material and all that it represents. He stands unnoticed in the rotunda, just another nameless grunt for the Bear. His meeting with Frumentarius Picus is long overdue.

He has been neglecting his purpose for far too long in pursuit of the forbidden fruit.

Frumentarius Picus, in the guise of a profligate corporal, tells him of the success of his mission so far, and the unexpected complication.

"They have a woman looking for me," he snarls, his voice dripping with contempt. "I directed her to Contreras to stall her for a few days."

"Is this woman still here?" Vulpes asks, and Picus motions to the mess hall.

"She's in the mess hall, currently tinkering with the food processor here. She's a god damn saint to these profligates," he says, and Vulpes' blood runs cold. He walks over to the mess hall, leaving Picus to stare after him in confusion.

She is there, kneeling in front of some Pre-War machine like a priestess at an altar. Her arms are buried in the machinery up to her elbows, and grease spots stain her complexion. Her tongue sticks out of her mouth as she twists and turns certain parts of the machine, useless scrap metal littering the floor underneath her knees. He sees that sniper looking down at her with an amused and almost loving look, and a snarl rumbles from deep within his chest.

"Sir?" Picus says, mindful to keep his voice quiet because to outside eyes, Vulpes should be the one showing respect.

"I'll deal with her," he says simply, turning on his heel and leaving the scene behind.

He catches her sleeping later that night, and his heart aches at how the moonlight streaming in from broken windows dances on her face. His dagger drips with poison, ready and eager to sink itself into her soft, nubile flesh. Her sniper is wandering the decrepit base, chasing the ghosts that keep him from sleep through the ancient halls. The others in the camp sleep elsewhere, as a measure of thanks. Just a small incision, so small that she would barely feel it, and she will never wake up again. It's a simple action, one that he has repeated many times in his life. But he stays his hand to simply look at her.

_Time is of the essence_, he tells himself. _This has gone on far longer than it should have. Best to kill her, and be done with it. She stands in the way of Caesar, and thus cannot be permitted to live_. But still he stays his hand.

She moans softly in her sleep, and her hands reach out to grasp what isn't there. He quietly sheaths his knife, and he takes her hands in his. They seem tiny and fragile in the moonlight, and look as though they would crack if he squeezed them hard enough. He presses his lips to the backs of her palms, closing his eyes and imagining that they are anywhere but where they are. He bends down to kiss her, hating himself for his weakness and delighting in the feel of her all at once.

Neither of them remember when she woke up, or pulled him onto the bed with her. Her hands free him of his disguise and he tugs her stained fatigues off of her with a ferocity he normally saves for his enemies. He presses reverent kisses up the side of her neck to her cheek, his hands gently coaxing soft responses that echo throughout the barracks.

"I didn't think I'd see you again," she says breathlessly, her hands splayed across his shoulders.

"I couldn't keep myself away, darling," he says, his eyes guiltily cutting over to the knife hidden in the folds of his clothes. He sits up, pulling her into his lap and onto his hardness in one smooth gesture. She yelps at the intrusion, and he presses kisses anywhere he can reach to ease her surprise. Soon, her expression turns blissful, and her lips press hotly against his ear, spilling out desperate moans with each thrust. She squirms and writhes against him, and he pulls her hips firmly against his. Her hair is in disarray and her skin glows with a red blush.

She has never looked more like a saint to him.

She leans back slightly, and he runs his fingertips from her clit all the way up her chest to cup the back of her neck. He meets another's gaze as he looks past her, and sees a stone man frozen in the darkness.

The two men meet each other's gazes, each recognizing the other for what he is.

The sniper takes a step back, then another, before turning and leaving the scene entirely, his fleeing visage an exact replica of Vulpes from weeks before. Vulpes quietly entices her to orgasm, and embraces her tightly as she rides out the waves of pleasure. He leans her back as she yawns sleepily, his still hard member slipping out of her.

"What about you?" she asks.

"Shhh. Go to sleep. I'll be fine," he whispers, pressing a kiss to her temple in the same spot the sniper did.

Once she's asleep, he dresses quickly, and doesn't spare a glance to the knife on his belt. When he exits the rotunda, he sees the sniper leaving the base with a bag slung over his shoulder. He smirks to himself, and makes his way back to Frumentarius Picus. His orders are to change his routine, and find another way to stay in contact with the Legion.

She catches him anyway, and Vulpes is almost proud of her resourcefulness. However, Caesar is not impressed, and summons all of the Frumentarii to him.

Vulpes stands before Caesar, and a cold dread wells up in his chest as his lord begins to speak.

"That woman has caused enough trouble for us," Caesar says, his quiet voice echoing like war drums throughout the tent. "She's is but one woman. I want her either dead, captured, crucified. I don't give a fuck. She needs to be eliminated somehow, and she needs to be eliminated _now._" His eyes land on Vulpes, and he fears the aging ruler can read his love for her in his eyes.

"Vulpes," he says, and his voice is gentle and indulgent. "I'm putting you in charge of her. Take care of her, will you?" Vulpes kneels before his lord, and almost fears that the weight in his stomach will keep him from rising again.


	8. Lie to Me

He tracks her to Novac. She followed the sniper when he fled Camp McCarran. He feels disappointed that she would still waste her time on that profligate. He hangs around in the shadows, watching her as she makes her way from the Dinosaur to the motel.

She knocks on the door of the sniper's motel room, and each knock is punctuated by a sense of urgency. The door swings open and the scent of unwashed bodies and whiskey billows out. The sniper stands rigidly, his face unshaven and his eyes red from lack of sleep and an abundance of drink.

"What do you want?" he asks quietly, his voice slurred and defeated.

"You left so suddenly I didn't get a chance to say goodbye," she says, and Vulpes hates the tender look she gives the other man. He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Didn't think you wanted me. Since you're a bitch of the Legion now," he says, and righteous anger flashes through her eyes. She swings at him, but he grabs her wrist and pulls her off balance. She lands with her back against his chest with a sickening thud. His arms lock around her waist like a vice, and he buries his face in the crook where her neck meets her shoulder.

"Tell me _why_," he whispers against her skin, his voice so quiet that only she can make it out.

"I don't have an answer," she says truthfully. "There isn't anything I could say that you would accept." His eyes shut, and his lips lightly brush against her skin in the mock semblance of a prayer. When she moves to pull away, his arms tighten around her. He pulls her inside, and Vulpes waits for her to come out. When she doesn't, he finds himself moving closer to the window of the room despite himself. He gazes through the crack between the curtains, and can just barely see her form facing away from him. He focuses on the voices that find their way through the cracks in the walls to his ears.

The sniper's voice oscillates between shouting and whispering. She stands there, silent for the most part, occasionally shaking her head and murmuring some sort of reassurance. Soon, he can see the sniper standing in front of her, visibly trembling. He drops to his knees, his arms wrapping around her knees and his face buried in her chest. She holds him, and the sniper's hands move up her body to clutch desperately at her back.

He can spot the exact moment when she lies to the sniper, and he chooses to believe her.

It is followed by a tentative kiss. She leans her head down and kisses him gently on the forehead. He looks up at her with a mournful look that nearly makes Vulpes feel sorry for the man. He almost doesn't begrudge the sniper her company when she pulls him to the bed. He feels he should pay them the respect of turning his eyes away, but finds his gaze locked onto them. He sees himself in the way the sniper reverently touches her, and he envies the way she presses soft kisses to his skin.

After day breaks, she exits his room and lights a cigarette. The sniper sleeps peacefully, and doesn't stir when the door swings shut. She closes her eyes as she blows the smoke out of her mouth.

That is when Vulpes strikes.

He throws a sack over her head, and he doesn't stop to analyze if it is necessary or if he doesn't want her to see him out of shame. He hits her on the back of her head a little too hard to knock her out. Her knees buckle and he catches her tenderly. He pulls her into his arms like he is cradling a child, walking over the still lit cigarette that has fallen from her mouth.


	9. Heard Somebody Whisper

Possible spoilers for Lonesome Road. I've tried to keep it vague, and as non-spoilery as possible, but I'm not sure I've succeeded.

* * *

><p>She doesn't stay unconscious for long. Vulpes' trickery gave him a few hours at most. When she wakes up, she pretends to still be unconscious to get a feel for her surroundings. She listens, but all she can hear is faint breathing and even fainting footsteps. She smells the air, and determines that they aren't heading to Lake Mead. Eventually, they go through a door, and she feels the heat of the hot Mojave sun fade from her skin. When Vulpes, still unknown to her, sets her down on a bed, she begins working at the rope tied around her wrists. Two hands pull the bag off of her head, and she stares up into familiar, icy blue eyes.<p>

"Not exactly the best way to court a woman," she weakly jokes. His gaze is hard, and she lowers her eyes. "So, it's time then?" He nods curtly, stiffly pulling out a knife. She shuts her eyes in resignation. She knew it would come to this. She had always known.

It still didn't make it hurt any less.

She waits for the knife to embed itself in her stomach, and tries to make her peace. What she doesn't expect is for the knife to cut her free of her bonds. Her eyes snap open to see Vulpes kneeling before her, cutting the ropes the bind her legs.

"We're at the Legion safehouse," he says quietly. "Atticus shouldn't be back for a few days." He drops the rope and the knife on the floor. He stands, looking down at her. Her mouth moves, but she can't find any words to say. Vulpes' hand gently strokes her cheek.

"If I could keep you with me," he says, not sure how to phase his thoughts. "As an equal, I would do anything in my power to do so. But the only options I have to give you are slavery, crucifixion, or desertion."

"And I expect you'll choose?" she asks. He shakes his head.

"No," he says. "You will. But not now. For now, I just want to spend time with you as though we were just a man and a woman, with nothing else between us."

"I take it Caesar wants me dead?" she asks, rubbing her wrists where the rope dug into them. He pulls some healing powder out of his pack, mixing it with water to make a salve to put over the burns. He gently takes her wrists, and rubs them lovingly.

"Yes, although seeing you suffer a lifetime of slavery would be appealing to him as well. He's instructed me to carry out your punishment," Vulpes says quietly, reaching for some bandages.

"And what would you want?" she asks him softly, running her fingers through his hair.

"I want you to live," he says with a fierceness that startles them both. "I should hate you for doing this to me."

"And I should hate you for everything you've done," she replies. "But that's in the past now."

"You still should," he answers, pressing his lips against her palm. "I am not, and never will be, a good person. Not like you."

"No one should be denied redemption," she whispers. He scoffs, and tries desperately to believe her.

"Who taught you such nonsense?"

"That old world book Joshua gave me to read," she says, smiling. "I'd think he'd be all the proof you would need that redemption exists. " He crawls on the bed beside her, and she obligingly lies back next to him. He pulls her close to his chest, her head tucked underneath his chin.

"I don't believe you," he says. "But I love you for saying it anyway."

They spend the next few days hiding out at the Legion safehouse, and Vulpes chases away any other Legionaries that happen to come bother them, keeping the Courier hidden from sight. He pushes all thoughts of Caesar out of his mind, and focuses solely on her company. Likewise, she ignores the NCR and the rest of her companions to spend time with him.

She cooks him meals by the campfire, and he makes love to her with an urgent abandon that leaves them both breathless. They live as a normal man and woman would, acting out for a time the sort of marital contentment that would be forever lost to them in the future.

Once, after a rather vigorous love-making session, she fiddles with that contraption on her wrist until a soft, deep voice croons about blue moons and loving adoration. She leaps out of bed, beautifully naked, and beckons him with a soft smile.

"Dance with me," she says, and he smiles indulgently, taking her hand. They sway to the beat of the music, and he twirls and dips her until her laughter is all he can hear. Her arms lock around his neck, and she sings along with the song softly.

"'_I heard somebody whisper please adore me_,'" he sings softly along with her, and is rewarded by her pressing eager kisses down his face and chest.

"Always, always, always," she murmurs each time her lips touch his skin. He sweeps her up into his arms, and spins her around, feeling like a human being instead of a monster for the first time in ages. He kisses her, wanting to keep the both of them locked in this moment forever. The music begins to crackle, and cut in and out, and a mournfully familiar voice stills his affections.

"Got a message for you," the voice hisses and sputters over the radio. "Come find me. You know the way." At those words, she tenses in his arms, and he wonders what sort of history she has with the man speaking, and if it's anything as sordid as his own. "Bring all of your weapons, bring your convictions. Your flag of the Bull, two-headed bear, or whatever flag you're carrying now. You and I, we'll have an ending to things. Leave your companions behind. This is your road, and you'll walk it alone." The transmission cuts out, leaving the crooning voice once more.

She stares at the machine for a long while, lost in thought, and he feels her slipping from his grasp.


	10. Baby, Won't You Stay?

Vulpes is not a soft man. He has never been broken, and he has never begged for anything in his life.

He wants to beg her to stay, and so he does. He tells her that he can save her from Caesar's wrath by making her his wife. She will be protected, she will never want for anything, and she will be his without boundary.

Underneath the Legion flag, she will also be his slave.

It is an old argument, one they have had before, and it works as well as the last time they had it. She shakes her head, and her soft refusal breaks him.

"I won't be your property," she says, shaking her head. "I will not allow the Legion to stand. I can't." The apologetic tone her voice takes is too much for him to bear. He hugs her tightly, and entertains the notion of taking her with him anyway, despite her protests. He finds he can't stand the thought of the love in her eyes transforming into a burning hate for the rest of their lives.

"Is desertion your choice?" he asks hoarsely. She nods.

"It is."

"I'll have to follow you," he says.

"I know."

"I'll have to kill you the next time we meet," his voice trembles, and she meets his gaze.

"I know."

She leaves him, and nothing he can say can change her mind. He gives her a day's head start before forlornly gathering his weapons to hunt her down.

He tracks her through the Mojave to a place called The Canyon Wreckage, where dead husks of the old world lean on each other to keep from collapsing. The words "Courier Six" and "You can go home now, Courier" send a chill up his spine. They call out across a vast expanse of time like a lover's voice to tempt her away.

The Divide is beyond the wreckage. He isn't sure what would be worse; a death by the Divide, or a death by his hands. So he bides his time and waits for her. Caesar is pleased when he hears of her new location. He feels she'll die for sure, and Vulpes both fears and hopes he is right.


	11. Taunt

Vulpes begins to wander the wastes without purpose underneath the guise of intelligence gathering. He spends his time in seedy dives and open expanses of dead earth. Whenever he hears a woman speak, he hears her voice float past his ears.

He misses her.

It's in a seedy dive christened The Atomic Wrangler where he meets her sniper. He's hidden in a dark corner of the establishment, and downing shot after shot of whiskey that glows from what little light that shines in the bar. He moodily looks down at a spare red beret clenched between his fingers. Vulpes slides in the booth across from him. He looks up, bleary-eyed and worn down.

"What do you want?" he asks wearily, his voice bringing to mind the last time Vulpes saw the man. It takes him a moment to realize that the sniper doesn't recognize him because he has not shed his profligate disguise.

"Erwin," he answers smoothly, not giving away a thing. "Let me buy you a drink." The sniper scoffs, but motions to the empty bottle in front of him.

"By all means," he says, and Vulpes calls the waitress over. She's a cute little thing who stutters and blushes her way through the order, and hurries away from them.

_It would be so easy to poison him, _Vulpes thinks, watching the sniper greedily devour the amber liquid. _A slight slip of hand, and that drink he tries to find solace in would be his end. _

Once again, despite himself, he finds himself staying his hand. He simply watches the sniper through hooded eyes. The two men are nothing alike, yet they are brought together by their love of the Courier, and the loss they feel in her absence. The sniper looks at him with an unreadable expression, and asks,

"Do you want to play a game of pool?" Vulpes is taken aback by the offer, and thinks of the Courier. She would be proud of the sniper's attempt to be social, even if he was emboldened by the alcohol. Slowly, he nods, and the sniper stumbles to his feet. He follows the sniper to a pool table where he is handed a pool cue a little too roughly, and they begin to play in silence. Vulpes observes that the sniper isn't really focused on the game, and just wants something to keep his hands from wringing that beret all night.

"So, what brings you here, stranger?" Vulpes asks, affecting his best western accent. "You seem to be drinking your sorrows away here." The sniper visibly winces, and Vulpes feels a hollow sense of triumph.

"Nothing," the sniper replies gruffly, sending one of the cue balls flying. Vulpes easily catches it, and sets it back on the table. After a moment's deliberation, he adds, "Girl I know."

"Oh?" Vulpes prompts, sounding like a genuinely interested country boy. "And what about this girl?"

"She's gone," he answers flatly, and that seems to be all he wants to say on the subject. Vulpes, true to his sadistic nature, keeps prying.

"What kind of girl is she?" The sniper glares at him, pool game all but forgotten.

"She's a courier."

"Well, that's deliberately vague," Vulpes says, amused, even though he knows very well who the sniper is talking about. "She wouldn't happen to be that Courier found outside of Goodsprings, would she?" The line of the sniper's jaw clenches firmly, and he nods. Vulpes notices the suspicious glance the sniper gives him, and knows he needs to back away before he is revealed for what he is, but he doesn't. He tempts a fire in an attempt to burn away the pain of missing her.

"I hear she's thrown in with the Legion, ready to lead them to victory at Hoover Dam," he says evenly, and the sniper throws down his pool cue. He is on Vulpes in an instant, shoving the other man violently against the wall. Vulpes' hat floats to the floor.

"Where the hell do you get off talking about her like that?" the sniper demands, his hands fisted in the front of his suit. "You don't know her at all."

"You sound so sure of yourself," Vulpes answers sarcastically, tilting his head.

"She's a good person!"

"She is, isn't she? Don't you wonder why she isn't here, with you? Where could she be that would take her away from you, hmm?" He says, and he relishes the crushed look that blossoms over the snipers face. However, that pleasure is short lived as the sniper pushes away from him, his face contorted in an expression hanging between grief and rage.

Vulpes leaves hurriedly, oddly disgusted at himself for his behavior.


	12. Moonlit Beauty

Tales of a savior billow out from the Divide, telling about a woman who took on sleeping giants and saved the world from the Second Great Fire. He hangs on each and every word.

Caesar's fury overshadows any gratitude he may feel about being spared. Vulpes knows he would not have been so saintly if given that much power. Caesar orders Vulpes to find her, and show no mercy. With a heavy heart, Vulpes searches for her, and prays to whatever god that will listen that he does not find her.

He finds her sitting at Lake Mead, gazing out moodily onto the moonlit water. He sees her lone figure, and knows he is cursed.

"Got a message for me?" she asks, her soft voice sounding disembodied like a ghost's. He looks down at the knife in his hand. _Show no mercy. _

"Yes," he answers, and she doesn't flinch when the knife embeds itself into her shoulder. He holds her to his chest in a parody of a lover's embrace, whispering apologies into her hair.

She simply smiles up at him, and settles in against his shoulder.

"Hold me until it's over?" He swallows past the thick lump in his throat.

"Of course." She shifts to look across the lake again, wincing slightly at the wound. It's a clean cut, and blood pours out in a gushing stream that stains his armor.

"Will I suffer much?" she asks, her breath starting to hitch.

"No. You'll go to sleep," he says, holding her tighter.

"Vulpes, I'm burning." He presses his lips to her forehead, and her skin is hot enough to burn. "Pull me into the water?" Wordlessly, he gathers her up in his arms, and takes her to the water. When he is up to his waist, he sinks to his knees and she sighs contently. She thanks him, and the effort takes her breath away. Her head lolls back to look unfocusedly at the night sky.

"It's so beautiful," she breaths. "Isn't it?" He swallows, and looks up to see the moon shining down on them.

"Yes," he answers. Her eyes drift shut blissfully, and he panics. _No_. He drags her out of the water, trying to ignore the way she gasps for breath.

He rummages through her forgotten pack until his fingers wrap around a bottle of anti-venom. He pulls the bottle open with his teeth, spitting the cork away. He opens her mouth gently and takes a swig of it, pressing his mouth to hers. She moans quietly, and his fingers clutch at her sides.

He holds her until her breathing evens out, and her skin cools. He takes her to Camp Golf, and sets her down gently. He makes as much noise as he can to rouse anyone from their tents.

A garish young man with glasses finds her, and Vulpes doesn't leave until she is safely in the medical tent.


	13. Cross My Heart

She wakes up with Boone next to her side. She reprimands herself for feeling a sense of disappointment.

He looks like hell, and a wave of guilt crashes over her when he smiles weakly at her.

"You're awake," he says, reaching for her hand. She gives it to him, and he gives rubs her fingers with the pad of his thumb. "Didn't think you were gonna wake up."

"Where am I?" she asks, looking at her surroundings.

"Camp Golf. One of the Misfits found you collapsed in a heap with a wound on your shoulder," he explains.

"Huh," she says. _Must've not had it in him to kill me after all. _"Must've been a cazadore."

"Didn't know cazadores knew how to wield knives," Boone says, and she doesn't meet his gaze. "Where did you go?" he asks, his voice tinged at the edges with betrayal.

"The Divide," she answers, and he lets out an oddly relieved breath.

"Thought you said you wouldn't leave me behind," he says, and his grip tightens on her hand. She offers him a weak smile as a substitute for an even weaker apology.

"You left me first," she answers, and he visibly winces. "I had to see what happened."

"Did you find what you were looking for?" he asks softly.

"No. I left with even more questions," she says, pulling his hand to her lips. "How's Hoover Dam?"

"The conflict is ready to explode. I'd give it a few days maximum," he answers. "You gonna be up for this?"

"Of course I will," she reassures him. "How the others?" He shifts slightly, as if he feels uncomfortable.

"Dunno," he says finally. "Haven't seen them. Been-" he pauses slightly, as if trying to decide what to say. "Been keeping to myself."

She doesn't pry, and Boone doesn't answer the questions that aren't asked.

"Missed you," he says finally.

"I missed you too," she says, and is taken aback to find her words are true. She doesn't mention there was someone she missed more.

"Courier, I-" he trails off, a strange and heated look breaking over his face. She waits for him to finish speaking, but he doesn't say anything else. He opens his mouth to try, but shuts it again in a firm line. He leans forward to kiss her, and she flinches slightly at the unexpected contact. His lips are chaffed and cracked, weather-beaten by the Mojave sun. His hands move to stroke her hair, and slide down to caress her face. There is no gentleness in the way he kisses her, and he hopes it says everything he can't. She moans softly, and he answers her, their voices melding into one indecipherable sound.

Her eyes feel heavy, and she has trouble continuing the kiss, even though she is surprised to find she would like to. She is lulled by Boone's constant stroking of her hair. She stifles a yawn, and he chuckles weakly, breaking their kiss.

"Go ahead and go to sleep," he says. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"Promise?" she yawns. He pauses only for a moment.

"Cross my heart," he says, and as she slips away into unconsciousness, he stays by her side all night, fingers stroking her hand.


	14. A Better Man

The Second Battle for Hoover Dam arrives faster than any of them thought it would. The Legion begins flooding in through nooks and crannies like so many vermin. The Courier destroys the ones in the drainage pipes, and a stony expression is locked onto her pale face. She is surrounded by her comrades, but Boone follows the closest behind her, killing any legionary that dares to come near her.

They both keep their eyes open, searching for the same man for different reasons.

Vulpes is at the Dam despite Caesar's orders to stay away. He has to see her one last time, no matter how this all ends. Some small, vain part of him hopes that Legion victory at the Dam will spare her, and she can live out her life at his side.

He spots her in the middle of a writhing mass of soldiers, giving orders and looking every bit like a queen. She wears the flag of the Bear proudly on her back, and that dashes any lingering hope he may have felt about their future.

She has made her choice, for better or worse. He just wishes her choice had been him.

He follows her as her group dwindles, some troops getting overrun with legionaries, and others branching off to fight their own battles. She and her friends make their way to the Legate, and everything in Vulpes' being screams at him to stop her.

He simply watches her, hoping her sniper will protect her where he cannot.

Vulpes loses sight of her when they enter the Legate's Camp, and begins to panic.

Boone loses sight of the Courier once they're inside the Legate's Camp. She runs ahead after he told her to stay close to him. She looks like she's running from something rather than to something.

He tells himself not to panic, and begins searching for her. An ocean of legionaries swarm, and he fights them off as well as he can manage. He sees her standing in front of a masked beast of a man, and fights his way toward her harder. He reaches them, covered in the blood of countless dead legionaries, and pulls her behind him. He holds his gun at the ready, and the Legate laughs. The Monster of the East turns his back on the duo, and his legionaries fall back behind him. Boone watches the group leave with a sense of awed rage. A gentle touch brings Boone back to the present. He looks down at the Courier, and she smiles.

"How in the hell did you do that?" he asks.

"Just lucky, I guess." She takes him by the arm, and leads him away. She strolls up to an amazed General Oliver, and he goes to follow her. A familiar blur catches his eyes, and he makes his way to the water where he finds Vulpes.

They stare at each other across the Mojave dirt, each waiting for the other to move.

Boone raises his rifle, and Vulpes tenses, like a caged animal. He briefly entertains the notion of calling out for the Courier, but stifles his voice. He is not a coward, and he will face his death, if not willingly, then with a sense of dignity.

_It would be so easy to take the shot, _Boone thinks. He cocks his rifle, and Vulpes takes a reluctant step back. _He would just be considered another casualty. _He sees genuine fear in the other man's eyes, and that stays his hand. He slowly lowers his rifle.

"Why?" spills out of Vulpes' mouth before he can stop it.

"I've killed enough defenseless people in my life," Boone answers.

"Had our positions been reversed, I would have shot you in a heartbeat," Vulpes says warily, looking for the sniper's hidden agenda.

"Guess that proves which one of us is the better man," Boone says, motioning past Vulpes. "Get out of here. " Vulpes' eyes stray unwillingly to the Courier in the distance. She's looking around for the sniper. "If you come back to take Courier, I will shoot you," Boone warns. Vulpes nods resignedly, his icy eyes locked on Boone's deep blue ones. He takes slow steps back, one after the other, before turning and leaving the two behind.

When Boone makes his way back to the Courier, he knows he isn't the first person she had hoped to see. But she greets him lovingly anyway, and that's good enough for him. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her close, and watches the fading speck of Vulpes until he is out of sight.


	15. Sucker for a Happy Ending

So sappy ending is sappy. XD I couldn't bring myself to post the sad ending I had planned. All of the 'Oh manz I want a happy ending' comments broke me, and I couldn't make you guys sad. Plus, I am a sucker for happy endings. I could post the alternate sad ending (and by sad, I mean no Vulpes, just Boone, which, I think, would make it more bittersweet than sad given the nature of the story) if you guys wanted, but only if you wanted.

* * *

><p>"This is embarrassing," she says, blushing furiously and looking down at the Golden Branch in her hand. Boone laughs, wrapping her in a one-armed hug before pressing a kiss to her scarred temple.<p>

"You shouldn't be. You earned it," he says. After a short pause, he adds softly against her skin, "Proud of you."

"Pfffft. You deserve this more than I do," she says, turning it over in her hand. "I'm a glorified mailman. _You're _the soldier." He chuckles. Citizens of Shady Sands stop to gawk at the Courier, and she self-consciously leans into Boone.

"So, what's next for you?" he asks. She pretends to look thoughtful, tilting her head and slightly sticking her tongue out between her teeth.

"Well, there's this First Recon guy who asked me to travel with him after he re-enlisted," she says teasingly, her eyes shining.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. You might know him. He's a pretty handsome fella by the name of Craig Boone." She smiles up at him, and he presses a soft kiss to the tip of her nose. She laughs, playfully scrunching up her nose. He presses his lips against the corner of her mouth, and she breaths out a breath that blows past his cheek.

"My re-enlistment might take me to some dangerous places. You sure you're up for that? I mean, you are a woman," he says teasingly.

"Better not let Betsy hear you say that," she says, jokingly punching his shoulder. "I think I'm up for it." She laughs, and skips ahead of him. "The question is, can you keep up?" He reaches for her, and she darts out of his grasp. She walks backwards, and runs into a solid mass.

"Oh, excuse me," she says, looking up into the face of the man she bumped into. His fedora is pulled low over his eyes, and he steps back from her like she is poison.

He doesn't move fast enough, and she catches his gaze. Icy blue eyes beg her not to follow him.

She watches as the man pulls away her, and ducks down a dark alley. Boone comes up behind her, and wraps his arms around her waist.

"Got you," he whispers against her ear. She plasters her smile back on, and kisses his cheek.

"I'll be right back," she says against his skin. His brow furrows, but he nods, and lets her go.

She turns down the alley just in time to see the man turn another corner, barely catching a glimpse of his back. She sprints after him, her footsteps thundering like a storm in her ears. She follows him through twists and turns that guiltily take her farther away from Boone. He speeds up, and speeds up so as not to lose him. She turns another corner, nearly tripping over herself in an effort to keep up, and comes to a dead end. The man isn't anywhere in sight. She lets out a disappointed breath, and turns to find him blocking her path. He steps toward, and she steps back until her back is pressed against a weathered brick wall. His hand settles by her head, and for one horrible instant, she's afraid that he isn't who she thought he was. She tentatively reaches up to pull the fedora from his head.

Shaggy brown hair falls in his eyes, and she notices that it's longer than it had been before. Dark circles hang below his eyes like coffee stains, and his gaze looks weary.

"What are you doing here?" she breaths, her hand reaching up to touch his cheek. He leans into her palm. He doesn't say anything, but she catches the way his shoulders tighten. "Vulpes?" He shakes his head, leaning his face closer to hers, and pauses inches away from her lips. He simply shakes his head, and pulls away from her. She reaches for his arm, but he pulls it out of her grasp. He turns his back on her, and finally speaks,

"I'm not here to kidnap you," he says dully.

"Then why are you here? Some plot for the good of Caesar?" He winces ever so slightly, and quietly answers,

"No."

"Vulpes," she says, but he cuts her off.

"I wanted to see you. I heard you married him," he says tightly. She turns him around to face him, and he lets her.

"He proposed," she says, and he doesn't meet her gaze. "I told him to let me think about it." She gently cups his cheek. "If you're discovered, you'll be killed."

"How the mighty have fallen," he says bitterly.

"Vulpes-"

"I don't know why I came. I have nothing left. You," he says, and his hands dance up her arms to cup her face. "Gave me everything, and took it all away just as quickly. I don't think I'll ever forgive you."

"I'm sorry," she breathes, and he gently brushes her hair behind her ear.

"You should be," he says, and allows himself to kiss her forehead. "I have never strayed from Caesar until you. I have never wanted another's happiness above my own until you. But I want you to be happy."

"That's not why you risked your life traveling into the heart of enemy territory."

"Maybe not. Maybe I thought I could convince you to come with me, after so many other attempts had failed. Maybe I just wanted to see you one last time before we walked away from each other forever," he says, shaking his head. "I don't know. All I know is that you've changed me, and I should hate you for it."

"Do you?" she asks. He leans down to nuzzle her cheek, and inhales her scent, closing his eyes blissfully.

"Sometimes." Her arms wrap around him, and he gives her one final squeeze. Her head tilts back, and he presses a chaste kiss to her lips. "Goodbye," he murmurs against her lips, and it takes all of her willpower not to cry. He pulls away from her, and she unwillingly lets him, her fingers brushing over his arm. She watches him go, ducking down another dark side alley she hadn't noticed before in her haste to reach him. Courier closes her eyes in an effort to stop the flow of tears that cascade down her cheeks.

"You love him, don't you?" a voice says, and she startles. She looks up to see Boone leaning against a wall of the alleyway with a hooded expression.

"I'm sorry," she exhales. He shakes his head.

"He's a murdering, slaving bastard. But someone once told me that a person could be redeemed. That they could take their regrets in order to forge a better path for themselves. Smart girl," he says with a weak grin. He walks up to her, cupping her cheek in his hand and wiping away her tears with the pad of his thumb.

"I love you too," she says in a lost voice, and he closes his eyes in an effort to both relish her words, and forget she ever said them.

"I know you do. I don't think you'd ever be completely happy with me, and I couldn't sacrifice your happiness for my own." He presses a gentle kiss to her lips. "I'll kill him if he hurts you." She wraps her arms around him in a tight hug before going after Vulpes.

Boone lights a cigarette, and stares at the spot where she had stood. He exhales a large puff of smoke, and mutters,

"Should've just shot the bastard."

Courier wanders through the twists and turns of the alleys, despairing that she'll never find Vulpes again. She stumbles into a busy street, and hits somebody. She looks up to see familiar blue eyes staring down at her in bewilderment.

"I love you," she breathes entirely too quickly.

"What?" Vulpes says, for once at a loss for words. She throws her arms around him, and kisses him. Her teeth accidentally scrape against his lips, and she's sure the force she hugged him with slammed him into the wall rather painfully. Citizens are stopping to gawk at her for an entirely different reason than before, but she can't bring herself to care.


End file.
